Sydney Pollack’s “The Interpreter” is a solid, well-crafted drama/thriller in which the major sub-theme relates to grief and how to deal with it. In the trailers and advertising, the basic idea—a U.N. interpreter accidentally overhears an assassination plot—seems to suggest that this is a Hitchcock-like exercise in suspense. Surprisingly, it’s really a somber, intelligent drama; suspense plays a part, but the movie’s goals go far beyond the edge-of-the-seat thrill-o-rama the trailers promise.

Pollack has had an uneven career, but his lows are not embarrassing and his highs are top-notch Hollywood filmmaking. “The Interpreter” is weakened somewhat by overlength and a less-than-gripping middle section. Also, the suicide of a major secondary character is so badly motivated that you can easily assume it was murder, and begin waiting for the killer to be revealed. The storytelling is a bit ragged at times; instead of a straight-line narrative, the movie tends to be discursive. And despite the casting of two such iconic figures as Nicole Kidman and Sean Penn, at heart it is not about the relationship of their characters.

However, it’s strong, adult entertainment, an intelligent movie intended for intelligent people; it trusts its audience and never condescends. The performances are, unsurprisingly, excellent—and it’s interesting to have two stars with such contrasting styles working together. Kidman and Penn both dig deeply into their characters, but Kidman shows us the result of her efforts, Penn is less giving to audiences—we have to do some of the work. But it’s inspired casting; they are graceful and balanced. One or the other or both of them are on screen almost for the entire film.

Not, however, for the opening. We see two men, white and black, who are clearly colleagues; another white man, a photographer, rides in the back seat of their Land Rover. They’re in the (fictional) African country of Matobo, on their way to a soccer stadium for an important rendezvous. The first two tell the photographer to wait as they enter the stadium—where they’re shot to death by boys.

In New York, Sylvia Broome (Kidman) is an interpreter at the United Nations building, often working in the General Assembly. We soon learn she was born in the U.S. but brought up in Matobo, and considers herself a citizen of that country. She has few friends, plays the flute, and lives in a quiet apartment decorated with photos of life in Matobo. We also see that she has a notebook like the one the dead white man had.

After a bomb scare evacuates the building, Sylvia returns to the
translator booth to get some belongings—and hears a voice speaking in
Ku, a Matobo language she knows well. She can’t see anyone, but she
hears the voice say “The Teacher will never leave this room alive.” She
knows wo the Teacher is; he’s Edmond Zuwanie (Earl Cameron); initially
a strong advocate for the rights of the downtrodden citizens he ousted
the tyrant who ruled Matobo. But over time, he too has become corrupted
by power; there are two rebel leaders, Kuman-Kuman (George Harris), who
lives in Brooklyn, and Xola (Curtiss I’ Cook), younger and more
left-wing. These two are not only opposed to Zuwanie but to one
another. But we know, though at first no one else does, that Xola was
killed with that white man in the soccer arena.

The world has become suspicious and critical of Zuwanie, who’s been
accused of genocide and who, in the tradition of questinonable leaders
everywhere, has begun calling his opponents “terrorists.” Now he’s
coming to New York to make his case before the U.N. General Assembly.

Sylvia immediately informs U.N. security about what she overheard.
Meanwhile, we meet Tobin Keller (Penn), who looks as worn and tired as
his eyes, as if he’s not been getting enough sleep. In a bar, he toys
with his wedding ring, plays what HE wants on the juke box, then calls
his own number to hear the recorded voice of his wife. Clearly there’s
something wrong in his marriage, but just what it is goes unrevealed
for a while.

He’s a Secret Service agent assigned to the Dignitary Protection Squad
along with his partner Dot Woods (Catherine Keener), who’s good with
low-key sarcastic wisecracks. They’re assigned to investigate Sylvia;
Keller is suspicious of her, but guardedly polite. He gradually comes
to realize that she is in danger herself and that while what she tells
him is mostly the truth, she’s also lying and holding information back.
And yet on an unspoken, subtle level, the two begin to connect.

For the first time, the United Nations gave permission to a Hollywood
production company to shoot in and around the U.N. building in
Manhattan. Pollack makes the most of it; we get a kind of cook’s tour
of the building, and it is impressive to see the vast General Assembly
room, the site of so much hope and promise. The film is squarely behind
the U.N.’s basic idea, which is stated in the film as “words and
compassion are the better way even if it’s slower than a gun.”

The script was by Charles Randolph, Scott Frank and Steven Zaillian,
who worked consecutively, not together. There’s a little raggedness
here and there; the suicide mentioned before is an example of this—it
turns up just at the right moment to give Teller information about
Sylvia that she doesn’t have herself, and removes a potentially
complicating character. But the strength of the script is in the clear
depiction of the characters, the realistic dialogue and the ability to
make national issues deeply personal.

Although this is not by any stretch an action movie, there’s some
gunfire and at one point a frightening but visually satisfying
explosion, treated very realistically—especially in the aftermath.
Toward the end, the movie builds suspense very carefully and thoroughly
as Zuwanie arrives in the U.S. is surrounded by Secret Service agents
and his own guards, then sets out for the U.N. Teller knows that the
intended weapon has to have been smuggled into the building earlier—but
where is it? Sylvia has disappeared, though she’s clearly not the
would-be assassin, so where is she?

The movie really belongs to Kidman and Penn, and they’re more than up
to the task of carrying it. They really are drawn to one another, but
both of them have too many issues at the moment to progress much beyond
friendship; both are suffering the loss of people close to them, and
they haven’t yet worked everything out. But in his understated way,
Penn suggests a man who, though torn by grief, can eventually come to
terms with what happened. Sylvia is on the verge of beginning the same
journey.

The supporting cast is very fine, and includes director Pollack in a
small, but important, unbilled role. Dutch actor Jesper Christensen
makes his American movie debut as a Matobo head of security. He’s quite
good, but let down a little by the script which makes it too clear, too
early that he is probably involved in the planned assassination. On the
other hand, the movie deftly hands us the key to the whole thing in a
remark made almost casually in a TV newscast.

The movie has more good ideas than bad, and one of the best is a Matobo
tribal ritual—of the Ku tribe, in fact—regarding revenge and grief.
It’s called “The Drowning Man Ritual,” and offers the relatives of a
dead person (murdered or accidentally killed) a way to either get
revenge or to bring their time of grief to full closure. Although
Matobo and the Ku are fictional, it’s a remarkably believable and
emotionally intriguing idea; it plays a part in the climax.

The few flaws of “The Interpreter” are hardly fatal or even very
serious. Pollack’s earlier “The Three Days of the Condor” also had some
weaknesses, but there as here, the overall approach and style, the
intelligent treatment of serious themes, and a strong cast make his
movie well worth seeing. It’s likely to be an Oscar contender.